A Supplication For a Forgotten Soul
by FarenMaddox
Summary: Five short pieces that are the thoughts of Regulus Black, during his service to Voldemort and during the time he chooses to leave the Death Eaters and sacrifice himself.  Sort of dark and tragic, but you knew that already. Please review!
1. Part 1: The Beginning of the End

The Beginning of the End

I don't know what I'm doing here. I really don't. I haven't understood myself for a long time, now. I have so many regrets, and it seems impossible. How could I have made so many mistakes with so few years to make them? I stare into the dark distance and I forget what I'm doing. A tug on my shirt brings me back to the moment.

"Master?"

"Just a minute," I mutter. Devoted eyes stare up at me, and I feel the sharp pang in my soul as I reach my final decision. "Damn," I say in disgust, and then I find myself giggling with hysterical amusement. Damn is right. Well, damned anyway. I have been damned ever since the moment I walked into that room and shook hands with pure evil. And I refuse to take anyone else down with me. Not even this little creature tugging at my clothes and asking me to hurry.

"Wait . . ."

"Yes, Master?" he whispers hopefully.

"I've changed my mind. This is what I want you to do."

I tell him the plan. He doesn't want to do it. Feeling even more wretched than I did a moment before, I tell him he has no choice. I hate doing that. I hate forcing him to serve me. I would much rather have him do it because he wants to, because I give him a reason to. But now, at this moment, I have no choice.

Only once of us is leaving this cave alive. And it's not me.

"Kreacher, I command it. You will take the locket after I drink this, and you will leave this place."

Shit, Voldemort already nearly killed this elf once. What will happen if he gets his hands on Kreacher again? He can't know what I'm doing, he must never know. "You will not tell anyone what happened to me," I say, hating how my voice shakes. My family will never know what became of me. "You have to destroy the locket in this basin. Do you understand? Whatever it takes, destroy it."

The house elf, trembling with the desire to disobey, nods his agreement. "I understand, Master Regulus."

I turn to the basin, and I stare into the depths of it, at the gleam of the locket in the bottom. I'm turning my back on Voldemort, and I'm doing what is in my power to stop him. But I threw my soul away for this mark on my arm, and it is my soul, and mine alone, that I will risk for this. I won't force Kreacher to die for me, as he would. I won't ask it of anyone.

I just wish my brother could know that I'm finally doing something to make him proud. He'll never know now.

"What have I done?" I hear myself whisper. But I know the answer to that. So I lower a cup into the basin and fill it. I raise it to my lips, and my very brief life flashes before my eyes. There is no one left to beg for me before whatever god rules the life after this one. No one to plead for mercy in light of what I'm doing now. There's just me. So I offer a short supplication to whatever is listening.

"Please. Please let this be enough."


	2. Part 2: My Damnation

My Damnation

I stare at Severus and wonder what he would say if he knew I admired him. He'd probably think it was some kind of joke, some kind of trick, and hex me half to death. He still thinks of me as nothing but a younger version of my brother. I can't say I blame him for hating Sirius, but I'm nothing like my big brother. I mean, sure I look like him and share the Black name, but that's it. Severus has no right to treat me like I'm the arrogant bully Sirius Black; I wish he would see me for myself. I do admire Severus. He might not be a social creature, but he's brilliant and he works twice as hard as anyone else to get ahead. He knows what he wants, and nothing stands in his way. He doesn't let anyone push him around, no matter how hard they try—no matter how many times my brother and his stupid friend Potter humiliated him.

I glance around the room and I begin to feel doubt about who I am allying myself with. Severus is far more intelligent than most of the thugs the Dark Lord has found to do his dirty work. The only wizards of real value that he's got, the only ones that can't be replaced, are Malfoy and Severus. I don't know Malfoy very well, he's quite a bit older than me and treats me like a child playacting something he saw adults do. But Severus is only two years older than I am, and I spent most of my school years with him. Not that he allows himself to have any real friends, but I was always asking him for study help and trying to prove that not all Blacks are like Sirius. Besides, I know his secret. I know something that only himself and the Dark Lord are supposed to know. I know about Lily.

"Regulus Arcturus Black."

My body goes cold and my breath halts in my throat when he calls my name. Lord Voldemort. It's time. Time to vow myself to his service. Time to take his mark. The mark I've seen coiled on the forearms of Malfoy and Severus, and other boys in my house. Slytherin, the only house in Hogwarts that produces wizards of any use. At least my family has told me so. I wonder. Like I said, I know about Lily.

I look up into the snake-like face of my new master, into those empty and dangerous eyes. I can't help shuddering. I don't think I really want to do this. In fact, I'm sure I'd rather be somewhere else, _anywhere_ else. I'm afraid, more afraid than I've ever been. More afraid than during my Sorting, than during my first Quidditch match, than during my first kiss with that Slytherin girl fifth year when we got sort of drunk. My heart is skipping like a little girl playing hopscotch and my mouth has gone completely dry. Merlin, why did I come here, why did I want to join this man? _Why am I saying the words, these damning words?_ Why can't I stop myself, say I made a mistake?

They'll kill me if I stop. I know it. So I keep saying the words. I let the Dark Lord touch me, burn his ownership into my skin, and then it's too late. I've done it. I look up and I see new respect in the contemptuous eyes of Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. That respect is a balm that I use to cover the burning pain in my arm and my wildly frightened mind. Is this why they did it, too? To see that kind of approval looking back at them?

I don't know when I got so desperate for approval, can't pinpoint the moment I rejected my brother to get away from the rejection he gave me and searched anywhere for something to fill the ugly void. The only thing I can think while my mind scrambles wildly for something to say now is, _What will Sirius think of me now?_ I don't care what my parents will think, and I don't remember when it ceased to matter. All I know is that I suddenly wish my brother had been here to stop me. He would have charged in among all his enemies and laughed while he fought them; he would have come here to rescue me, if I had asked him to. He turned his back and walked away, but I know he would come back for me if I had bent my pride enough to ask.

I find it odd that I'm thinking these things. When I arrived, I wanted this, wanted it more than anything. I would have scoffed at the idea of being rescued by anyone, let alone my cocky blood-traitor of a brother. I have no room for regret, and I know it. I've damned myself, and I need to make the best of it. They're all staring at me, waiting for me to smile and ask what my first task will be. Shit, shit, my tongue just won't work. I feel totally frozen.

Severus is stepping forward to shake my hand, welcoming me into Lord Voldemort's service, and I finally find my voice.

"Thank you . . . brother."

He looks surprised, and then he sneers at me. But he says nothing. He steps aside to allow Malfoy, Macnair, Avery, and Crabbe to welcome me to the fold in rapid succession. I'm not the only one who took the mark tonight. My cousin Bellatrix is here, too. She scares me, that girl. She's always been a little bit odd. Now she's caressing the newly forged mark on her arm with something like reverence, and a man named Lestrange has his hands all over her with a familiarity that disturbs me. She's ignoring him, the only things she's paying any attention to are her mark and the man who gave it to her. She's more than just odd, she's half-mad. What will this service make of cousin Bellatrix, I wonder. What will it make of me?

Merlin, what am I about to become?


	3. Part 3: The Day Everything Changes

The Day Everything Changes

The Dark Lord tells me he wants a house elf for a special project of his. I volunteer Kreacher immediately. Lately I've fallen on the wrong side of his graces, and I've been subject to everything that means. The pain . . . I just want it to end. So I eagerly do everything I can to serve him, even though all I really want is to end my service. But I always knew he was cruel, didn't I? Did I really think it would never come to me? I seem to remember laughing about it, when I was sixteen. Sure, I felt a little sick to my stomach when I saw that half-blood and Mudblood hatred could reveal themselves in such ugly ways, but Malfoy and Severus were my idols. I had to laugh.

I had to laugh then, and now that I can't bring myself to do it anymore, I have to try harder. I have to work harder. I can't let them see how frightened I am, how disgusted. This service—it sickens me. The mark on my arm means acceptance to me no more. Only shame. There's no more time for getting tipsy with other teenagers and kissing strange girls. No Quidditch . . . no flying, no wind rushing through your hair, no laughing and diving and the admiring gasps of your friends and the girls you want to impress and finally finding a place to outshine your older brother . . .

Now there is duty. And today, duty means a house elf. So I have come home. I only come here to sleep and eat once in a while now. I finished school months ago, and I'm well of age, but my parents are so proud of me, make no demands on me. It's restful, when I get a chance to be here. It's where I come to hide when it becomes too much, when I've been punished for a failure or for not doing enough. My family is supposed to offer the best servants to the Dark Lord, and my cousins have done very well, there. Cousin Narcissa, married to Lucius Malfoy just months ago and already pregnant. And then there's Bellatrix . . . Lord Voldemort's right hand, almost, and crazier than ever. She's married to Rodolphus Lestrange now, that older boy that was caressing her so blatantly the night I took my mark.

And then there's me. Never counting for much, never getting things done right or on time. How can I help but balk when I see their faces? Those frightened, pleading, tearful faces. _Spare my wife. Please, please, don't hurt my baby girl_. Sometimes the memories are too much. Sometimes I get sick. Kreacher usually finds me then, and cleans up after me and brings me toast and tea to settle my stomach. How pathetic is it that my closest friend is a household slave? And now I'm sending him into a bad situation.

"Yes, Master," he says in his nasal little growling voice.

"Kreacher, whatever happens, you have to come back, okay?"

"Master?" he repeats uncertainly.

How can I explain that I might be asking him to do something dangerous? How can I betray the only friend I've got now? Am I really such an awful coward, that I would do that to save my own precious skin?

"Kreacher . . . I command you to come back once you have finished the task that Lord Voldemort gives you."

"Yes, Master," he agrees.

"Thank you."

And now I just have to wait. Wait in my room for him to return. I don't know what the Dark Lord wants him for. I don't know how long it will take. What I do know is that all the other Death Eaters are busy torturing Muggles while he's busy, and I want no part of that anymore. I've seen too much of it, and I'm tired to death of it. What's the point, really? To prove that we prefer purebloods? I think they've all got the point, now. And lately, pureblood status hasn't meant as much to me as it used to. Not when they're all committed to torture, and even murder.

_No, take me! Don't hurt my boy!_

I race to the loo and retch. Kreacher isn't here for me this time, and my parents wouldn't dream of setting one foot in here. Kreacher might be seeing the same things that have been causing me such pain, and I sent him into that. I retch over and over, until there's nothing left to come up. I'm so tired and worn that I just lay there, shivering. It's always like this, lately. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I always feel exhausted and a little feverish. My life feels like one long nightmare of dark corners and blood.

I finally drag myself back to my bedroom and I stare at the walls. Green and silver, just to annoy Sirius, even though he stormed out of the house three years ago and hasn't been back since. What did Slytherin ever give me that another house couldn't have, I wonder? The Death Eaters are no friends of mine. Not even Severus, whom I admired so much. Maybe Sirius had the right idea after all, with his bravery and his swagger. At least he has friends. Good friends. I saw that, back at school. He and James Potter were more like brothers than we ever were. I regret that, now. I wish we'd been closer. Sirius has been in danger ever since he moved out. He and his friends have gone up against my fellow servants so many times that they've had to go into hiding. I know that if Lord Voldemort ever finds them, my brother will die. I wonder if he would be cruel enough to force me to do it.

Who am I kidding? Of course he is. He'd drag Sirius in front of me, bleeding and battered by whoever captured him, and order me to torture him before I killed him. Is that day coming? What will I do when that day arrives? If I refuse, won't we both be killed? What choice is there, really? I could never kill him.

With a sob, I stumble over to the picture on my wall of my Quidditch team. Those days are over now. And I don't want to be a former Slytherin anymore. I grab the picture, intent on taking it down, but my hands are trembling. What could it hurt, to leave it there? To remind myself that I really had been a child, once? Been liked, had friends, had things I loved? I will never have them again, but maybe remembering that I had them once will give me the strength to keep going.

CRACK!

Kreacher's return interrupts my thoughts, and I am thankful. My thoughts are rarely worth having anymore. But I'm horrified by what I see. Kreacher is in obvious agony, he's soaking wet, there are bruises on his arm, looking like someone grabbed hold of him. He's weeping, babbling something I can't understand . . .

"Kreacher, you don't have to tell me right now," I say, trying not to cry. I did this to him. This is my fault. It's all my fault, all of it. I get down on my knees, and I pick the dripping elf up off the ground, finding some source of energy I didn't know about. "Relax. Merlin, you're freezing. Come on, let's get you warm."

What is he talking about, a cave? A locket? The Dark Lord's _soul_?

Lord Voldemort didn't expect my elf to live to talk about what he'd been a part of. He underestimated my little friend. And he's just handed me the key to his destruction.

Oh, shit. Do I really have it in me? Do I dare try?

"Kreacher, shhhh."

Looking in the face of this kind of abuse, faced with the prospect of the whole world being the way it is for me . . . Do I dare _not_ try?


	4. Part 4: The Final Lament

The Final Lament

Kreacher gave me the most accurate description of the locket possible, and I made an exact replica. I put it in my pocket, and he led me back to the place Lord Voldemort had taken him. To a cave by the sea. Across a lake. A lake which, Kreacher tells me, is full of Inferi.

I can't stop trembling. Inferi scare me, sure, but Lord Voldemort scares me more. He's been claiming that he's immortal, and now I know why. Kreacher told me everything. I'm more afraid than I was the night I took the Mark, and I thought that was the most frightening night of my life. Everything since then has been a nightmare. And now here I am, trying to finally, at last, do the right thing. I've left it a bit late, I think. I'm eighteen. I've spent the last two years doing his will, and now I want only to destroy him. He should have left my elf alone. He tried to kill my only friend.

I'm not strong enough to fight him. Sirius was right about me all along. I'm nothing special. I'm a coward who was too weak to even stand up to my parents, let alone the Dark Lord, my master for what feels like so long. My master no longer, not today. And yet I can't defeat him. Can Albus Dumbledore stop him? Will there be another great wizard, one I don't know of, who will put an end to the longest night our world has ever seen?

I wish I were Sirius. Sirius would have done this task, and laughed, and gone on to fight him face-to-face. All I can do is come here and do a very little bit. I'm not brave, or especially intelligent. I didn't even find this information on my own. My servant had to tell me about it. This is all I can do. But by Merlin, I do mean to do it.

The world ought to be better off without me. One less Death Eater cluttering things up, one less body the Dark Lord can throw at Dumbledore's people. At least I will never be faced with my brother's bleeding body and told to kill him. At least I will not have to live or die by someone else's command. No, I will die by my own choice. And I have chosen today.

I take a bit of parchment out of my pocket. I couldn't think of what to write. It sounds stupid now.

_To the Dark Lord  
I know I will be dead long before you read this  
but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.  
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.  
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match  
you will be mortal once more.  
R.A.B._

I don't know how I got through school, with such awful writing. But it's all I've got, and I put it inside the fake locket. Merlin, am I really going to die? Now, here? Me, of all people, die a hero? Not Sirius, the brave, handsome and defiant one; me, Regulus, the haughty boy who has already been half-forgotten. I'm very young for a hero, if that's what I am. And damned. Above all, damned. I should have started thinking for myself a little sooner. I've hurt people, lots of people. I've fucked it all up.

But this, I can do right. This one last thing.

I don't think Kreacher realized until just this moment what I meant to do. He thought I meant to leave him here, like Voldemort did. I kneel down to give him a brief hug and thank him for his help.

"Master, I will do it. Kreacher will do it for you."

"No. You've already done enough for me. I'll never survive betraying him anyway. I'd rather choose my own death than wait for him to choose it for me. You go on, Kreacher. You destroy the locket."

Then I start drinking the potion. It burns, Merlin, it _burns_. And then . . .

_No! Take me, take me! No, don't kill her, please! My baby! Not my husband! No! Help, somebody, anybody! Why are you doing this? Who are you? What do you want with me? My love, don't give up, don't tell them anything! No, please, not her!_

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! _Noooooooooooooooooo!_"

And there is only a house-elf to weep as I drink it all, as I go down, down . . .

It's so dark here. Oh, it's so dark.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_ Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_, chapter 28


	5. Part 5: And So We Wait

And So We Wait

It's dark here. And cold. Sometimes we talk to each other, but mostly we're alone. So lonely. Not even a house-elf for a friend.

I asked someone when I arrived, what I was to do here. What this place was. If I had duties. She said no. She said she was waiting. Waiting for what? For company. For someone she knew.

This isn't what I expected. I lived as a coward, and died a hero's death. I should be fixed into some eternal damnation, or maybe even some eternal reward. Instead, there's just the dark. And the cold. And the loneliness. I don't know what I'm waiting for. Nothing in particular. I have no one to wait on. But in this place, that's the only thing to do.

I've seen the others. The ones who find the person they're waiting for. They're so joyful after that. I saw James and Lily Potter pass through, and I knew how devastated my brother must have been that they were gone from him. How devastated Severus must have been to lose her so finally. They recognized me, and they greeted me, and they told me what happened to them. I wonder if Sirius will like it, raising their son. If it were me, I wouldn't trust Sirius with a pet rock, but I guess James and Lily know him better.

They didn't stay long. They were two of those who were joyful on this side, and untroubled by the cold darkness. It's like the dark is afraid of their happiness, and it retreats from them. Not like they glow, not anything so silly as that. But it's like the darkness has to take a step back. It's not allowed to touch the ones whose waiting is ended.

I will be in the dark for a long time. Forever. So this is my damnation. So this is my reward.

Sometimes I come to the edge, as close as I can get. I try to listen, to hear what happens on the other side. Usually, nothing. Sometimes I hear men talking. Trying to guess what is on this side. They try to hear what we're saying over here. I've shouted at them, but it always comes out a whisper. There's no real noise here. They can't hear me.

_Do you know me?_ I've tried shouting that. _Does the world remember Regulus Black?_ Not likely. But I wish they would at least tell me what happened to Voldemort. I've never seen him here, but that's no guarantee. I'm not sure everyone comes here. _Would you please just say something about Voldemort? About anyone? Is Sirius alive, did he make a better hero than I did?_

But now, something is happening over there. Something different. It's not men talking in near-whispers about what might happen over here. They call the divide between us the veil. But now, there's no talk about the veil. There's shouting. Screaming. There's fighting. Someone is fighting over there, in the world I've long been out of. That kind of fighting should only mean one thing.

I hover closer to the edge, as close as I can get. I want to see it, if Voldemort enters here. I want to be the first to know. If he comes this way. I hope there's someplace much worse reserved for him.

And finally, someone comes through. It's not him, and I actually feel relieved. Even now, on this side, I wouldn't want to meet up with him. The darkness closes over the figure, a gaunt-looking man much older than I was when I came through. No surprise there.

He cries out in shock, and immediately turns back to the edge. "No!" he howls. "NO!"

"It won't do you any good," I say, stepping close to him. "They can't hear you."

"I'm not dead, I'm not dead, I'm not dead!" he roars. "I won't leave yet! I was fighting, dammit!"

"You're not fighting anymore."

"Damn you straight to hell, you evil hag!" he spits out, still trying to break back through to the other side. "Curse you and I hope Remus fucking _murders_ you, you bitch!"

He turns to me, looking sheepish. "I think my cousin Bellatrix just murdered me, that crazy—"

We both stare at each other in shock.

"Merlin," he whispers.

"Shit, you look _old_," I whisper back.

"Regulus?"

I nod, very slowly. "So, um, how were things, apart from cousin Bellatrix killing you?"

He shrugs. "I was in Azkaban. They thought I betrayed James and Lily, when it was that cowardly little rat— oh, are they here? James and Lily?"

"They passed through. A long time ago."

"Damn. Well, I'll find them. Anyway, I broke out. And I found Harry and Remus." He turns back to the edge. "Shit. Take care of him, Remus. You're the only one left." His voice is hoarse with emotion, something I'd almost forgotten about. "It's all on you now, Moony."

He turns back to me.

"Well, um, I could help you look for your friends, if you want."

"Regulus . . . what happened to you?"

I tell him quickly. I don't know how to explain what I did. I get it all out as quickly as possible, knowing I can't make myself sound any better to him. But still, I can't help it. I hope he'll believe me. That he'll think well of me.

"You did it to save _Kreacher_? That stupid damn elf is what brought those kids to the Ministry tonight. He nearly got us all killed. He _did_ get me killed!"

I tell him what Kreacher did for me. I never could understand the arrogance my older brother had. He didn't even have the decency to treat a servant with kindness, one who had no choice in staying or going. My voice gets more heated and more embarrassed as I explain how sick I was, for months.

"So I'm so sorry if you think it was stupid of me to die to save my only friend, but that's what I did! Now do you want help looking for _your_ friends, or what?"

"Regulus," he says quietly. "I'm sorry. You . . . did the right thing." And he smiles at me. "Who knew it was possible, eh?"

I find myself just barely smiling back. "I just told myself that this way, he could never force the two of us into a fight. I would never be asked to kill you. I chose how I died."

He smiles even more, and he seems a little younger, more like I remember him. "You're braver than I thought you were." He looks me over. "And _younger_. Damn." Then he's holding his arms open, and taking a hesitant step forward, and I am embracing my brother for the first time since we were young kids. Funny, I never thought it would happen on this side.

"Well, I guess _his_ wait is over," a jealous voice—the only emotion we really still feel—says behind me.

I look around me in surprise. The dark is backing away. I guess this was what I was waiting for, after all.

Sirius turns back once more. "See you, Harry. Kill that bastard, I know you can. Try to take out my cousin, while you're at it. Oh, and take care of Moony, you know how he gets." He reaches out his hand, as far as he can. "I'll be waiting here, with my brother. Good luck."

"You know he won't hear you."

"I know . . . but maybe he'll know I'm here."

Then we go, to look for James and Lily. I confess myself disappointed that Voldemort's still out there, and I can't help wondering how long it will be before Sirius sees Harry again.

And so we wait. Together.


End file.
